Chapter 22: The End of the Story

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Hestia takes me back to her house on Mt. Olympus once I'm able to stand again. It's small, much smaller than the palaces surrounding it, but it also feels so much happier. The walls are lined with tapestries and there is a hearth in each room, lit and always crackling merrily as though always waiting for someone to sit down and relax by them.

Hestia doesn't let me rest, however. She tells me when I arrive that she believes the best cure for sorrow is work. "If your hands are busy them your mind is busy," she tells me before sending me walking around Olympus delivering packages.

"I thought Hermes was the god of trade," I say one night as I relax my aching feet by the fire.

Hestia laughs. "Hermes is the god of fifty different things. I am the goddess of one. He delegates some of his more minor duties, such as delivering the mail, to me."

"Which you've passed on to me."

She shrugs. "I am safe to be alone with my thoughts. You are not. So until such time as I feel you won't try to kill yourself spending a hundred years walking the Earth, you will have tasks and jobs to keep you busy."

I stare at her, a slight feeling of wonder filling my chest. She is a far cry from the young goddess I had met during the war, still trying to find her place among her siblings. "You've done this before."

"I am in charge of the recovery house for those lost, injured, or just needing a warm place to stay for the night. I do my best to help anyone who finds it."

"But you brought me here, I didn't find it."

"Technicalities."

To my shock, a laugh bursts from my lips. Hestia grins and I grin back. She gets up, walking past me towards the door. "I have something I must attend to, but get some sleep. You have more work to do in the morning.

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Recovering in Hestia's house doesn't feel like recovery. It feels like living. Every day, Hestia assigns me tasks to do and sometimes she even accompanies me on them. At night, we sit by the hearth, telling stories. I find that Hestia has been nearly everywhere in her time and can tell more stories than even Philia. But whenever she sees me beginning to think about my family and my own history, she stops whatever she's talking about and asks me to tell her a story.

Slowly my scars begin fading and I regain my strength. Soon, I am soaring over Mt. Olympus instead of walking.

We move back and forth between Hestia's house on Olympus and the recovery house where there are constant visitors. I find there is rarely a night we spend just the two of us. Other gods, nymphs, dryads, even some mortals pass through, every single one of them looking for something.

Hestia trains me in the art of healing and medicine and I help her when someone seeking medical help finds us.

However, the difference between the other travelers and myself is that, in the end, the leave. I do not.

On one of the rare nights that Hestia and I are alone, we lay on one of the couches by the fire. It's become habit for us to share a couch for Hestia wants her guests to have their own place to sit and there is only so much space in the room.

Or, at least, that's the excuse she gives me.

As I stare into the fire, Hestia's head leaning back against my chest, thoughts swirl through my mind. "Can we talk about something?" I say suddenly and Hestia sits up, groaning softly.

"I was just getting comfortable," she complains but smiles at me nonetheless. "What do you want to talk about?"

I sigh, still deciding if I actually want to have this conversation. "This house... when I first got here, you described it as a recovery house. But I am long recovered now."

"That doesn't matter," Hestia assures me quickly. "This house is open to anyone who needs it for as long as they need it. It will bring you what you need to be happy."

"Yes, I know all that. But I think it's time for me to move on, to make space for another person who needs it."

Hestia shifts, turning so her entire body faces me. She stares at me for a moment, firelight flickering in her golden eyes. "And what makes you think this house only works one way?"

"What do you mean?"

She leans close so our noses brush and I can feel the pulse of her heart through the thin layers of clothing separating us. "This house brings what you need to happy. I used to be lonely. It brought me you."

I force myself to meet her gaze, though my eyes keep flickering to her lips barely centimeters from mine. "Those who get close to me never have happy endings," I warn her, my heart thudding almost painfully in my chest.

"It's alright," she says in a whisper. "I'm friends with the fates."

Then she leans just the slightest bit forward and our lips meet and it's as though my entire life falls into place. Her mouth is warm against mine and I gasp softly as she nips at my bottom lip. She leans against me and we fall back on the couch, her entire weight on top of me.

I won't tell more than that, reader. Some things are only meant to be shared between two people. However, I will tell you this - when I kissed Endymion, it felt like the world was set on fire and we were the only ones left.

When I kissed Hestia, it was as though my entire life finally made sense. Everything I had been through, everything I had gained and lost, had all been meant to lead me to right now, to this moment with her mouth on mine and her hands on my waist, a fire cracking merrily beside us.

So, reader, I think I will end the story here. My life doesn't change much from what I've told you in the last few paragraphs. I stay with Hestia and we heal those who pass through our house. We provide them company, protection, and sometimes just a shoulder to cry on.

So, if you ever feel like you're alone in the world with nowhere to go and nothing to do, just start walking. Look for a little house in a meadow with fires flickering in the windows. We know what it is like to feel pain, to feel heartbreak and loss.

We are the first goddess and the last Titaness, and we are always here in our little house at the edge of the world. So, if you're ever in need of a helping hand, please stop by.

We'll leave the door open.

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